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Once again, Carlos had trouble remembering every detail as to what happened next, but after talking about this next turn of events, this is how I interpret what happened.227Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlRQdkBzXFJ
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Carlos checked his wristwatch periodically while contemplating his next move. He thought of the woman who would meet him on the Bayou bank this same evening. Her voice had been soft and confident; she seemed calm and unafraid, but that was on the phone. He hoped she was the right person to help him.
He had to assume the woman meant for him to meet her at the mouth of Buffalo Bayou where it fed into a lesser stream called Whispering Willow Creek. At least that was where he would go in search of her and the answers he needed. Several hours passed before he walked from his white frame house and climbed into his car, placing the vase beside him in the front seat.
Driving south on I-10 to St. Joseph's church, he fumbled under the seat with his right hand, steering the car with the other. He pulled empty candy wrappers, potato chip bags, and soft drink cans from under the seat, finally dragging out a small, empty pint bottle and bringing it to his face.
"This'll have to do," he exclaimed. "I'll put the Holy Water in this. It's all I've got."
He pulled his car into the parking lot of the desolate, gray-stone Catholic Church and stared into the semidarkness, saying a silent prayer before leaving the safety of his car. He got out of the automobile and walked over to the concrete steps that led up to the double oak doors. He gripped the black handrail and paused briefly, looking up at the cloud-free night sky. He noticed the full moon lit his way as if God had shined a guiding light for him. Dismissing the thought, he walked up the stairs and went into the church. He crossed himself and moved to the white, porcelain stand that was filled with Holy Water. He submerged the bottle and waited patiently as bubbles rose to the surface. Once the container was filled, he pulled it out of the liquid and screwed the lid back on. Checking his watch and almost deploring it, he knew it was time to meet the Gypsy woman along the bayou's edge. He knelt and said the Catholic act of contrition, then stood to his feet and headed back outside to his ear.
Driving north on I-10, he passed the resort on his way to the bayou and tried to assure himself that everything would be okay, but deep down, he felt a sickening terror of what might happen when he re-entered the resort.
Thoughts of some demon swallowing his soul flashed in and out of his mind as he turned the wheel of his car, bringing it to a stop on a small, dead-end street that ran parallel to Whispering Willow Creek. Stepping from the car, he paused briefly, looking at the weeds and thicket, and listened to the splashing of the waves against the creek bank some 70 feet away.
Before him in the dark shadows of the night loomed a small grove of trees, the moonlight filtering through the branches and casting long, scary shadows onto the ground. He felt the threatening hostility of evil surrounding him once more and felt as if he was being watched by a thousand tiny, unseen eyes. He slowly entered the thicket, moving toward the creek, and felt the night fall upon him. It seemed that everything in this brush came alive, yet nothing lived, not even him.
Reaching a clearing, Carlos stepped onto the top of a rock pile that towered some ten feet above the wet riverbank. As he edged his way across the slippery, moss-covered rocks, his right foot slipped into a hole, causing him to lose his balance. Pin-wheeling his arms, he fell forward and rolled down the hillside to the muddy trail below. As his body came to rest along the creek bank, he grabbed his right ankle with both hands, screaming out in pain.
"I've broken my goddamn foot!" he groaned. "What the hell's gonna go wrong next?"
He sat up along the creek's edge and untied his dirty, white gym shoe, inspecting the damage to his swollen ankle. The water splashed against him as he sat gripping his leg with both hands. The pain was instant and excruciating, causing him to become nauseous.
Suddenly, a dark shadow towered over Carlos's body, causing him to forget his pain for just a split second. Quickly turning and looking over his left shoulder, he looked up and saw a thickset, white-haired gypsy woman, probably in her eighties standing behind him. She was just as he imagined her to be. The woman knelt beside him and spoke in a whisper.
"You must be Carlos. I saw you fall. Let me check your leg."
He sat quietly staring at the woman as she carefully estimated the damage to his ankle. She moved her hands slowly up and down his leg.
"It's not broken,' she said with a soft, warm voice. It's a bad sprain, but you gotta ignore it. You've got yourself a long night ahead of ya. Here, lemme help ya up."
The woman extended her hand and helped Carlos to his feet, and surprisingly, his nausea seemed to go away. Favoring his injury, he hobbled to a nearby tree and leaned against the trunk while the woman pulled some wild plants from the moist soil. She walked over to him and knelt, rubbing the green leaves on his leg and ankle. For some odd reason, this seemed to relieve the pain, sending a tepid, soothing sensation throughout the extremities and allowing him to stand evenly on both feet.
In a matter of seconds, the pale expression faded from his face and the pain greatly diminished. He reached into his back pocket, grabbed the bottle filled with the Holy Water, and found it still intact. His fall had not shattered it, but all at once, he let out a desperate cry.
"Where's the vase? I dropped the vase! I had it with me when I fell." His voice began to break. "I've done it now! If anything happens to Buck and his family, it'll be my fault!"
"It's okay! I've got it!" she exclaimed. "I saw it fly into the water when you fell over the rocks."
She placed her right hand into her red, nylon jacket and pulled the vase out, giving it to Carlos. "It's time to get started. There's no time to lose." She sounded ominous. "Listen and remember all that I say."
Staring directly into Carlos's eyes, the old Gypsy began her instructions to this man who would soon face evil in its worst form. "You've got to pour the Holy Water into this vase and say the Lord's prayer while you stand over the pit."
She paused briefly, then pulled a small envelope from her pocket and gave it to Carlos. "After you complete the prayer, pour this packet of powder into the vase," she continued. "Once you've done this, pour the contents of the vase over the pit, allowing it to fall into the opening. At that moment, rebuke the devil by repeating these words: 'I rebuke you, Satan, and seal you in Hell for all Eternity.' Remember those words, "she emphasized. "It must be said just as I have stated. Once you've done this, it'll be over. Don't be fooled, my darling man. From the very moment you enter the building, your life will be in extreme danger. The evil will come at you in every way you can think of. Once you walk inside, there'll be no turning back. The dark side will try every trick, even beyond your worst nightmares. I can't tell you what they'll do, but I can safely say they'll do anything within their power to stop you. If you lose your faith for one moment, Satan himself will devour your soul. Expect the worst from this enemy. They know you're coming. There's nothing else for me to say, except I'll be praying for you. One other thing, if you succeed, pray for the soul of Jacqueline so her spirit may rest in peace. There are many unrested, earthbound spirits in that well, including a girl named Debby. Jacqueline's body must be found, but that will only happen after you close off the pit and bind the evil where it belongs. It's time for you to get going. The Ancient One is luring your friend to that place even as I speak."
As the woman's words faded away she turned and quickly walked into the shadows of the night, vanishing from Carlos's sight. At first, he thought she had merely gone to get something, but then it hit him: she wasn't coming back!"
"Wait! How did you know about Jacqueline?" Carlos yelled out as he limped up the creek bank looking for the Gypsy woman, who had vanished as quickly as she had appeared. "I didn't tell you about her. Wait! Don't go yet! What about your phone? It was disconnected after I talked to you. And who's Debby?"
Carlos searched the darkness with his eyes, waiting for a response that never came. She was gone, leaving him to sort out his thoughts and prepare for the most terrifying experience of his life. He turned and clawed his way up the moonlit creek bank and headed for his rendezvous with evil. He had no idea what was waiting for him inside the Lone Star Honky-Tonk, but one thing was certain: he was determined to stop this "thing" from destroying his friends.227Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlEGwLG1Jg7
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